The Billionaire's Bet 3, A Risky Raise(16)
I shrugged, and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Julie Fury?”
I flushed. “Excuse me?”
“Fury? Julie Fury?” It was the doorman down below, I recognized it.
“No, my name’s not Fury. Just Julie. Julie Valentine.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve got a package here for you,” he said, his voice sounding oddly hoarse. “I’m bringing it up in a second.”
A package for me? Who in the world would know I was here?
“Ah, no thank you,” I said. “I’ll pick it up later today.”
“Sorry Miss,” he said, stuttering. “But I insist. I will bring it up right away.”
I sighed. “If you have to.”
There was no response. The bleeps were already audible.
Did he just hang up on me?
I counted down the seconds it took for the elevator to arrive. If he really was in a hurry and went in the first one that was available, he would be here any moment now. I walked over to the door and opened it. A short guy, our doorman, stood there with a package in his hand. The only weird thing about it was that his face was red, his eyes glazed with tears and that his fingers were trembling.
He dropped the box in his hands. “I’m sorry …” he mumbled.
A gun appeared out of nowhere. It came from the side, and my eyes couldn’t register it, but the booming sound it made was enough for me to know what happened.
The doorman dropped to the floor, a dark mark on his temple. Red fluid seeping out.
My mouth dropped open, a shriek came out.
I panicked and stepped back a few times. A man turned his head around the corner and looked at me. A mask covered his face, but I could see his eyes. His eyes were like a predator’s eyes; vicious and threatening.
I tried to slam the door shut, but he wrenched it open. I ran as hard as I could, back to the kitchen. I pulled open all the drawers until I found a knife large enough to protect me. If I even could protect myself.
His pounding footsteps echoed through the house. The tears stung in my eyes as I walked backwards, my fingers grasping the counter, as I felt my body shake. Someone just got shot right on front of me and now he’s after me.
What the fuck is going on?
This was otherworldly and so surreal, but it was really happening. Someone was here. Was he going to take me? Or worse, kill me?
My breathing was ragged, and it felt like my heart almost jumped out of my chest. Then I saw his face. My shuddering was accompanied by loud weeping, and I cringed. He walked toward me with calculated steps, his eyes quickly glancing at the knife in my hand.
Shit, I need to do something or he’s going to get me.
I lunged forward. The knife straight ahead, a battle cry coming from my mouth. I put everything I had into it. It almost felt as if I wasn’t in control of my body, like I was this raging mad woman.
I missed. He stepped aside and grabbed my arm like I was a toy. He swished me around and snatched the knife from my head, throwing it aside. I pushed his arms and shoved my elbows up his ribs, but he didn’t even flinch. He laughed, the sound of it sending bile up my throat.
“You’re a pesky little thing,” he said.
His arms wrapped around me so tight I could barely breathe. He put a cloth over my mouth, and I screamed. The substance I inhaled made me woozy and sleepy, and I couldn’t resist anymore. Slowly, my mind drifted off into nothingness.
All I saw was darkness. No light. Not even when I opened my eyes. There was only nothingness around me, and I couldn’t move. It was like I was trapped in an eternal shadowy vortex.
I could barely breathe.
Something covered my head and my face. It was dark, so dark, and the air inside was thick and it stank. The musty smell made me drift off again, but I forced myself to stay awake. I needed to know what happened. Needed to find a way out of this mess. Wherever the fuck I was.
My fingers tingled. Something bound them together. I sat on something hard and cold. I tried to focus on the senses that did work. I could feel some kind of fabric covered my face and I could taste my own sweat. My eyes began to feel wet.
My muscles ached. They were strained by the strange position they were in. I could barely feel my legs anymore. I didn’t know how long I’d been here. It could’ve been hours, days, weeks, for all I knew. The mere thought sent chills up my spine.
I tried to feel some more, my fingers stretching to their limit, but could only make out a cold, hard wall behind me. My stomach growled, and I had the sudden urge to hurl. I held it back though; I didn’t want to suffocate in my own vomit.
“Is she awake yet?”
I vaguely heard someone’s voice. A woman. A few clicking steps came closer, and I flinched, trying to protect myself, even though I had no possible way to do so.